Seeds of Summer

by Deborah Vogts

  “Mind if I go to my room while you two plan my punishment?” Chelsey cocked her hip, her expression stoic.

  “Yes, I mind.” Natalie reached across the table and shoved back a chair. What had happened to her little sister? The sweet girl who’d followed her around with childish zeal, singing songs and making up games of pretend for them to play, who never seemed bothered by anything the world threw at her? Who, in fact, had always been able to shut out the world. “And Jared, I’d appreciate it if I could have a word with you too, please.”

  ELEVEN

  NATALIE CONTEMPLATED THE TWO AT THE TABLE. JARED HAD DECEIVED her into thinking he was a normal person…a friend even. For Pete’s sake, he’d allowed her to cry on his shoulder. It grieved her to think how she’d bared her soul to this man—the things she’d said. She could only imagine what he must think of her.

  Her gaze shifted to her sister, angered that she had to deal with this problem on top of everything else weighing on her, and do it in front of the mighty minister who seemed to consider her family his personal mission project.

  “Why are you doing this?” she asked Chelsey who attacked her fingernails like a beaver. Natalie understood teens were curious about drugs and alcohol. Although she’d never fallen for such temptation, she’d seen plenty who had, especially on the rodeo circuit. But why her little sister? “Is it because of Dad? Are you trying to lash out at him for leaving us?”

  “Why do you care? Miss higher-than-everyone-else Rodeo Queen. When you didn’t get what you wanted in Vegas, you left us. Don’t try to pretend we matter to you now. Where were you the last five months?” Chelsey shot up from her chair and stormed from the room.

  Her words stung Natalie’s cheek…and her heart. Ignoring her guest, Natalie rushed after Chelsey and caught her by the arm at the staircase. “I’m sorry I didn’t come home. Can’t you see that? I missed that time with him. If I’d been here, maybe I could have helped. Prevented it somehow.”

  “Don’t think you’re special,” her sister spit back, but some of the anger fizzled. “We all have those thoughts. The difference is, Dillon and I were here, and you weren’t. Now you’re home, and you want to run our lives.”

  Natalie balked. “Is that how you see it? That I want to control your life?”

  “That’s how it’s always been. You were the honor student, the beauty queen, the devoted sister who took precious care of her family—Daddy’s favorite. I’m sick of trying to follow in your footsteps.” She pulled herself from Natalie’s grasp and thundered up the stairs.

  Natalie watched her go. Her vision blurred with tears as condemnation tightened her stomach. Were Chelsey’s words true? Had she abandoned them, and was she a control freak? A firm grip tugged on her shoulder, and she turned to see the gentle eyes of the man in black.

  “I couldn’t help overhearing.” He patted her back, the charge in his fingertips tentative and wary.

  “My life is such a mess.” Natalie pressed her hands against her forehead, ready to overlook her annoyance with Jared if he could offer any suggestions.

  “I know you don’t like my interference,” he said. “But for whatever reason, God has put me in your path, first with Dillon and now Chelsey.”

  She closed her eyes, preparing herself for another lecture. “Go ahead. Tell me what I’m doing wrong.”

  “I’m not here to criticize, Natalie. Your family is suffering. It’s only natural for there to be some whiplash.”

  “Is that what you call it?” Natalie stepped away from him. She’d be more inclined to say her life was out of control with her on a runaway horse about to jump off a cliff. “So, what happens now?”

  She listened while Jared outlined their plan for community service. “You think this will help?” Natalie studied the man’s confident expression and took comfort in the determined set of his jaw although she couldn’t help but wonder if a swift kick in the behind was all her sister needed.

  “It might help her to think of other people instead of wallowing in self-pity, maybe learn to manage her anger in a healthier way. No more shutting doors on the people she loves.”

  Natalie lingered at the empty staircase, the bass vibrations from Chelsey’s stereo traveling through her like small currents of electricity. “ ‘Men shut their doors against a setting sun.’”

  The broken screen door creaked in the kitchen, and Natalie’s heart skipped a beat. She stepped back to see who had entered their house unannounced.

  “Those are pretty bleak words, even for you.” Willard’s gravelly voice carried to her from the kitchen.

  Natalie signaled her neighbor to come in. She had no idea where her words had come from, only that they had fallen from her tongue with ease, as though hidden in her soul, waiting for such a moment to make their exit.

  “If I’m not mistaken, it’s Shakespeare,” Jared said.

  Natalie’s gaze traveled to Jared’s, and their eyes locked.

  “Timon of Athens to be exact.” Willard joined them in the living room, breaking the connection. The two men shook hands as though they’d been friends forever. “You read poetry?”

  “I read everything.” Jared smiled back.

  “You’re the new pastor in town.”

  “That’s correct.” Jared’s grin expanded at the observation.

  Natalie watched their interaction with interest. Willard had obviously been sitting in on the early morning coffee sessions at Clara’s Café. How else would he know what even she failed to recognize?

  “My wife babysat Natalie and the kids when they were young. Natalie used to sit on my knee while I read poetry to her. I guess she must have retained more than I realized.” Willard winked at her, and she smiled at the remembrance.

  “I admire a man who enjoys poetry,” Jared said.

  “And I admire a man of God.” Willard shifted his focus to Jared. “How do you know each other, anyway? Are you old friends? From college perhaps?”

  Jared shook his head and extended his hands in her direction. “I’ll let Natalie fill you in on the details.”

  All this jolly interaction made Natalie uneasy, like her arms and body were bound in a lariat and she couldn’t get loose. She needed space. A quiet place to clear her mind and think through her decisions—from the past and for the future. These two men with their talk and laughter seemed to lap up all the available air in the room. “Would you mind doing the honors? I need to step out to the barn and see if Tom made it back. If not, then I should finish unsaddling the horses.”

  Willard’s brow furrowed. “We can do that for you,” he offered.

  “No need. The fresh air will do me good.” Natalie managed a smile, then escaped before they could protest further.

  JARED CLEARED HIS THROAT AND SCANNED THE UNFAMILIAR ROOM. HIS attention returned to the man who liked poetry. “I failed to introduce myself. I’m Jared Logan.”

  The black man’s large hand reached out once more and encompassed Jared’s, his grip firm and strong. “Forgive my poor manners. Natalie’s family and I go way back. I live down the road. Willard Grover.”

  Jared remembered seeing Willard on his porch the day he’d first visited Natalie’s home. He caught the hint of peppermint on the man’s breath. “You’re probably wondering why I’m here. About my connection to Natalie.”

  “I am at that.” Willard’s expression remained intent. His dark eyes offered friendship but also warned not to get too close.

  A nervous chuckle issued from Jared’s throat. “I met Dillon awhile back fishing.”

  “Natalie told me about Dillon’s disappearance to the river. I saw the boy head off in that direction, but never thought nothing about it. Should have known it’d rattle Natalie’s cage. I reckon it would have put my wife in a tizzy too.”

  “How long have you been married?”

  “Cancer took Martha after our fortieth anniversary. She was the best thing that ever happened to me.” The man slumped onto a stair step and leaned back on his elbows. “She and thi
s family, that is.”

  “You’re close to Natalie and the kids?” That would explain the man’s unannounced entrance into the kitchen. Jared pulled up a chair, hoping to learn more.

  “About as close as a bird is to its nest. Their grandfather sold me a piece of his land, when we came home from Vietnam. Not a huge acreage but enough to call my own.”

  Jared studied the man seated before him with increasing admiration. “Retired?”

  “Ought to, but I enjoy work too much. I have me a leather shop at home, and it keeps me busy. Mostly repair work.”

  Jared noted the man’s thick fingers, gnarled from arthritis. “You watched the kids grow up then? I understand their father passed away recently.”

  The man stared down at his hands and frowned. “Adrian was a good man, as good as his father.”

  Intrigued by Willard’s connections to Natalie’s family, Jared’s interest grew. “What about their mother?”

  “Which one?” Willard seemed to travel back in time. “Natalie’s mama didn’t have a selfish bone in her body. She was a pretty girl—like Natalie. When Natalie entered grade school, her mama died. Adrian was mighty tore up after that. The man was always quiet, but after her death there were days when he wouldn’t speak to no one.”

  “That must have been hard on Natalie.” Jared rested his arms on his knees and clasped his hands together, hoping the man would go on.

  “It wasn’t long before Adrian married again—whether from loneliness or to give Natalie a mama, I couldn’t say. She was a real doozy, and that marriage only lasted long enough to bring Chelsey and Dillon into the world. Guess you could say Natalie raised those kids, with a little help from friends and family.”

  Jared’s chest clenched at the thought. “Did they attend church?”

  Willard rubbed his gray whiskers, considering. “Natalie used to go with her mama before she died. After that, not so much, though my wife took the kids on occasion.”

  “What about you? Are you a religious man?”

  The man grinned as though he’d been caught. “I’ve been known to enter the doors of a church, but mostly my sanctuary is under the shade of a great big oak tree.”

  Deciding not to press further, Jared went to the kitchen window and stared out at the glowing yard lights, the night insects haloed around the bright globes. “Think we should go help her?”

  “I think if she wanted our help, she would have asked for it.”

  TWELVE

  NATALIE SEARCHED THE DIMLY LIT BARN FOR TOM, WONDERING WHERE he’d slipped off to and why he hadn’t returned. She took a deep breath and inhaled the fresh night air, thankful for its calming effect. Peace and quiet. No words, no uncertainty, just wood, dirt, and the sweet smell of hay and horses.

  The frogs croaked from a nearby pond, reminding her of the many times her dad had taken them frog hunting. Had she really neglected her family like her sister said?

  The repulsive thought had flitted through her mind more than once since her father’s death, but she’d been afraid to linger on it too long for fear of the truth.

  Yes, she’d stayed away, but not because she didn’t love them. Not because she didn’t care, but because she yearned to start a new life for herself. Natalie had needed to move on with her dreams, especially now that her rodeo queen days were over. Prove that she could make it on her own—without the ties to her family, without being responsible for anyone but herself.

  She shrugged the traitorous feelings away. What was so wrong with not wanting to be responsible for a change?

  Her horse nickered from the open stall where he’d been feeding. He probably fancied more grain. Natalie grinned, familiar with how his mind operated. She strode over to Jackson and removed his saddle and blanket, welcoming the familiar scent that floated to her nose. She pressed her forehead to his warm skin, willing the sensation to override the war inside.

  Closing her eyes, Natalie allowed her mind to drift to the night six months ago in Vegas when her dad had clapped her on the back and told her to stop dreaming. “It’s time to get back to the real world.” His words echoed in her mind.

  Well, Dad, my life certainly doesn’t have room for dreams now, does it?

  Though his lecture had been cold, his eyes shone with warmth, and perhaps even a flicker of sorrow. In that remembrance, Natalie realized something that hadn’t occurred to her before, and her eyes filled with tears.

  That night—that awful night—when she’d been too distraught to appreciate it, had been the last time she’d hugged her father—the last time she’d ever be able to hug him again.

  The tightness in Natalie’s chest swelled until it felt like it might explode from keeping the anguish inside. She raked her fingers through Jackson’s coarse dark mane, yearning relief. Though it was night, she debated climbing onto her faithful gelding and riding bareback through the pastures. She’d give him the rein, with only a crescent moon and stars to guide them over the rocks and hills. He could carry her away with his strong legs and sure feet. With the wind on her face and in her hair, maybe the hurt would stop hurting.

  Her plan evaporated as Tom’s noisy diesel roared up to the barn. Natalie swiped the moisture from her face and tucked her grief to a safer place for when she had more time and energy. Right now, she needed to be strong, present herself like the rancher her father would want her to be. She straightened to her full height, prepared to give her hired hand a piece of her mind.

  “Hey Nat,” Tom called from the other side of the barn.

  She cringed at the nickname, reserved only for her closest friends. “Where have you been, Tom? I’ve been trying to call you for hours.”

  “Really? Well, you know how it is out here. I must have been in a dead zone.” He lifted the straw hat from his head and tossed it in the cab of his truck, his yellow curls matted. “I went into town to get some supper. I told you that before I left.”

  Natalie picked up a currycomb and commenced to brush her horse’s back. “I don’t remember any such thing, just like I didn’t recall your similar excuse when you were supposed to help us unload the second shipment of summer cattle.”

  He shut the truck door and shuffled forward. “I explained about that too. You can’t blame me for an emergency.”

  Natalie shifted so that Jackson stood between her and the hired hand. “I can and I will. I’ve given this lots of thought, Tom, and I’ve made a decision. Your position on the Double-A is over, effective immediately. You’re never around when I need you, so it makes no sense to waste hard-earned money on a hand who doesn’t work. You can stop at the house to get your final pay. I’ll have it ready before you leave.”

  Tom’s eyes narrowed into disbelieving slants. “You’re making a big mistake, firing the only manpower you’ve got on this ranch.”

  Natalie stifled a laugh and slid the comb over Jackson’s rump. “Men are a dime a dozen in this county. If I need one, I know where to find one.” She hardened her gaze, hoping Tom would see she meant every word. When he stepped backward, she allowed herself freedom to breathe naturally. No way did she want to get in a tussle with this guy, though she was confident she could hold her own.

  “Okay, I’ll go. If you’re sure that’s what you want.” He jammed his hands in his front jean pockets. “But since you’re not giving me any advance notice, you better make that last paycheck twice the usual amount. For my trouble.”

  She clenched the currycomb and debated throwing it at him. Or better yet, she could hop on Jackson and chase the yellow-bellied cowboy off their land with a switch. “I have a better idea. You leave without a fuss, or I’ll make sure every rancher in Charris County knows what a loser you are, and you won’t work in this part of Kansas for years. Then we’ll see how far your excuses get you.”

  The man scowled but didn’t offer any more resistance. Once he’d disappeared into the darkness, Natalie put Jackson to pasture, then headed for the house, glad to see Willard and Jared’s vehicles parked in front. Should Tom get a wild
hair and decide to cause trouble, there would be strength in numbers—even if those numbers included a broken-down war veteran and a pale-faced preacher.

  The two sat at the kitchen table, coffee mugs in hand. They perked up at her entrance, but Natalie kept walking.

  “What’s your hurry?’ Willard called to her from behind.

  “I fired Tom.”

  And now she had to pay him.

  Minutes later Tom knocked on their front door. Natalie tore the freshly signed check from her father’s ranch account and hurried to the living room, hoping Willard and Jared would stay in the kitchen while she handled this awkward task. She’d never fired anyone before, and a part of her felt guilty for putting this man out of a job.

  Before she turned the metal handle of the front door, Tom barged in. His syrupy expression appeared borderline volatile. “You sure you won’t change your mind about firing me?”

  Natalie held the check out for him. “Here’s the last of your pay—and don’t worry, I’m being generous.” She managed to keep her voice from wavering.

  The hired hand cursed and banged the door against the wall, jarring the house with its vibration. “Why can’t you be reasonable? All I did was take a few hours for myself, and you’re calling it a crime. Don’t you know a man has to have time off?”

  She didn’t want to argue and had no reason to do so. “Time off, yes, but occasionally, you do have to show up for work.”

  “Your daddy would have known better than to fire me.” With every word, his voice escalated. He moved closer and raised his finger so that it almost touched her cheek. He stood so close she could smell onion on his breath. “You’re making a big mistake. And you’ll regret it, watch and see.”

  THIRTEEN

  JARED TUNED IN TO THE ESCALATING WORDS FROM THE NEXT ROOM, though muffled from the walls. Getting fired was never good, but for a man like Tom, being fired by a woman would sting even worse. “Think we should help her?”